


A Cold Spring

by fancywaffles



Series: An Azure Dawn [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, First Time, Getting Together, Huddling For Warmth, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancywaffles/pseuds/fancywaffles
Summary: Soon after liberating Fhirdiad, but not yet at the point of riding for Derdriu a harsh chill rolls through what should be Spring's shift into Summer, and gives Dimitri and Byleth a little bit of time before jumping back into the war.(or, hey they probably smashed before S-Support, let me figure out when, the novelette.)
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: An Azure Dawn [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654411
Comments: 18
Kudos: 388





	A Cold Spring

_Dimitri_

Dimitri found Byleth with a fur blanket and what he suspected was a rug covering her entire body, while she shivered in front of a stoked fireplace. He had not noticed her discomfort, but now it seemed apparent that Fhirdiad’s weather, especially during an unexpected cold front in late Spring, was a bit much for someone who had grown up in warmer climates.

“I’ll ask Ingrid if she has any spare warm clothes,” Dimitri said.

“What?” Byleth asked, turning towards him. He noticed the fur was also covering her ears and even though the muscles felt unused and unnatural, he couldn’t help the smile at the image.

He was rewarded for a smile he did not deserve, with another one, brighter than the fire next to her. “I thought you all were exaggerating about the cold. If anything, you undersold it.”

Byleth looked towards the flames, his former professor shifted a little and brought the blanket down an inch so that it wasn’t directly against the sides of her face. It still appeared as if she had cocooned herself into it and was swamped by the fabric.

“I can ask Ingrid if she has any spare warmer clothes,” Dimitri said again. She felt like the obvious choice and was easier to ask than Annette or Mercedes who were still careful around him for completely understandable reasons. “You should have said something.”

“Can’t exactly fight with a fur coat on,” Byleth said and pulled the blankets down a little more. Her face was flushed from the fire. “Weather doesn’t bother me usually. I’ve been in snow. It isn’t even snowing.”

It was too dry to snow at the moment, so the chill had no humidity to cling to and add a token of warmth to the onslaught of ice in the air. “Bone chill,” Dimitri said and at Byleth's perplexed expression added, “that’s what it’s called. It’s a cold that reaches your bones. My—“ He stalled for a moment and tried not to focus on the voices of the dead that still beckoned him. He was finished with that, but it was still difficult. “My father used to say that every former injury comes back to haunt you during the Faerghus winters.”

“Lovely kingdom you have,” Byleth said, and it took him a moment to catch that she was joking.

“It was,” Dimitri said and regretted it, at her downcast expression. He realized she was trying to cheer him up. Their equilibrium had never really returned to what it had been at the academy, not that Dimitri ever felt completely in step with her.

To make up for it, he picked up the fire iron and stoked the flames a bit more. The satisfied sigh, Byleth made at the heat, made it worth the awkward crouch it required.

“If you don’t have anywhere else to be,” Byleth said, glancing up at him as he stood straight again. Once he made eye contact she gestured to the spot on the floor next to her with her head, as yet still no fingers had made their way out of the blanket.

Dimitri hesitated, but then relented and settled awkwardly beside her on the floor.

“I hope we insulated the monastery enough so that the displaced villagers aren’t cold,” Byleth said, leaning her head against a lump underneath the layers that Dimitri thought might be her knees.

“Seteth seemed very focused on reconstruction,” Dimitri gave her, there was little else he could offer as he had not paid any attention to reconstruction or the displaced and could only vaguely remember them taking in some people from a village that had been attacked. Not remembering the name of the village or even the people he must have killed sank into his throat and down to his stomach.

“If not him, then Cyril … who’s probably still cleaning.” Byleth added the last part in a slightly irritated murmur. She glanced over at Dimitri and must have caught something on his face, because she softened her tone. “You can’t blame yourself for everything. That’s the opposite of …” The words, something like ‘what you were’ hung in the chill of the air, but were left unsaid.

“If we are going forward with all of this,” Dimitri said. He still wasn’t sure why or how they were, considering the circumstances. He did not know why anyone, especially those that had left, would come back and follow him after all he’d done. “I should know about it.”

“You can’t know everything,” Byleth said, but she didn’t look directly at him. She stared up at a point just above his head. He wondered what she saw there. Her eyes came down and met his gaze. “But it’s good to try.”

Trying was all they could do. The hope in it seemed pointless, but Dimitri was trying to think about that as well.

“The nights outside aren’t that cold in Garreg Mach,” Dimitri tried to add, for something to say in the silence and because he did not want her to worry. “If there is an issue.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Byleth looked at him, bemused.

“Sylvain,” Dimitri said, and then added with a small cough. “He pulled me on a… scouting mission, where we ended up locked out once.”

Byleth put her head on the knee shaped lump and with all the layers, it took Dimitri a moment to realize she was laughing.

“I’m honestly surprised it only happened once,” Dimitri added, and as he had hoped, it made her laugh harder, enough so that the visible shaking underneath the layers was matched by an audible chortle.

He had always envied that of Sylvain, being able to make the Professor laugh. It felt like cheating to use him as leverage to do it on his own, but Dimitri could not care with the way her face completely brightened. Byleth finally showed her fingers, as she took them out of the multilayered warmth to wipe mirth tears that had appeared at her eyes.

She caught him staring at her, likely a little too much and the smile that formed on her face was blinding. The spell of it had to be why he reached his hand out to warm her fingers with his own. The smile stayed, but softened as Byleth let their fingers intertwine and leaned towards him until her head was resting against his cloak.

He heard his breath, mingling with the sound of hers, as they sat like that, warmed by the fire for longer than Dimitri could count.

“I don’t think Ingrid’s clothes will fit,” Byleth finally said. “Might be easier to ask Felix.”

“When is it easier to ask Felix anything,” Dimitri said before he could catch himself, but he didn’t regret it as it made Byleth laugh again.

“Is it always this cold?” Byleth asked. “I can’t even imagine winter.”

Dimitri let himself picture her getting used to the cold, even if the fantasy was misplaced and likely unattainable. He had to focus on the now. They had no true way of knowing if there’d be a then. “Its bearable.”

“Very convincing,” Byleth said with a derisive snort.

“Generally, we’re prepared for it. No one was expecting such a chill on the eve of…” He wondered if they were connected. If something about Cornelia’s death was tied into the weather. But that was unlikely… they’d had more unusual weather before. He wasn’t an expert in magic, but he suspected that should the weather shift in its call, someone would have mentioned it by now.

“Hm,” Byleth said, and Dimitri noticed how long her lashes were as she looked down towards the floor. They were still dark, closer to the original color of her hair. He waited for her to continue her thought, or if not, enjoy the comfortable silence again. Byleth leaned her head back, not enough to remove it from his shoulder, but enough to meet his eyes. “Everything else in the world to talk about and we’re discussing the weather.”

Dimitri meant to apologize and ask what she wanted to talk about, but he didn't want the lightness of the moment to end, so instead, in what he hoped sounded like a joke, “Would you rather re-examine the last war council strategy for Derdriu?”

“It’s warm in the war council,” Byleth said, still looking up at him. Her chin resting just below his shoulder.

“Did you…” Dimitri started and then could not meet the piercing, unblinking gaze, of his former professor, especially this close. He turned his head back towards the flames, trying not to think of Ailell. “Did you wish to speak on something specifically?”

“Not really,” Byleth said. Her fingers intertwined with his moved in a circular pattern across the knuckles they could reach. It was… not an unpleasant sensation. “I am trying to think of a polite way to ask you let me in your cloak.”

Dimitri practically bucked at that, which shifted their comfortable position enough that their fingers untangled and Byleth’s head no longer rested against him.

“I suppose that wasn’t it,” Byleth said and when Dimitri caught his senses enough to meet her eyes, she looked irreverent.

“You wouldn’t fit with those layers,” Dimitri said, unsure if he meant it as a joke to play along or literally. She physically could not.

Byleth sighed and let the blanket and what Dimitri was now absolutely certain was a rug drop from around her shoulders. She immediately began shivering, her evening attire, covered but not nearly thick enough for the cold. Dimitri moved without thinking and wrapped both his cloak and arm around her, drawing her close. Byleth was solid against him, colder than he was expecting, but firm and real and no obscene amount of fur padding between her skin and his own. Just a few thin layers of fabric.

If he _had_ felt cold, Dimitri was certain the warmth that rushed through him would put a stop to that. It did not help that Byleth had now buried herself at his side, pressing against him. She moved slowly, almost hesitant until her arms were around his torso.

Dimitri swallowed and yearned for some kind of … understanding of exactly what was the best thing to say. Sylvain likely would have known, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know that kind of best. He settled for swallowing again and tilting his head down to look at her, light green hair mussed against the fur of his collar. “This isn’t a very permanent solution to the chill.”

“It’s not bad as a temporary one,” Byleth said, muffled slightly as most of her face was pressed into his chest.

He couldn’t disagree. After all, most things… all things weren’t permanent. Even the chill that had passed through what had been a mild Spring would soon pass and they would be on their way to gather resources to assist the Alliance, and Claude at Derdriu. Eventually everything would end.

A thought that usually made him morose, only made him appreciate the moment all the more. He wrapped his other arm around her, bringing the edge of the cloak with him as a thin excuse.

Byleth’s contented noise put a knot in Dimitri’s chest and gave him the courage to rest his head on hers, as if the position wasn’t intimate enough. They stayed like that, quiet, in comfortable silence, warmed with each other against the cold, until they fell asleep.

* * *

_Byleth_

Byleth was not as warm as she would have liked when she woke up, but she hadn’t frozen to death in the night (which while unlikely, felt possible). The reason for that came back to her quickly as she noticed that the chair she had fallen asleep on, seemed suspiciously Dimitri-shaped.

King Dimitri, she noted to herself, always annoyed that she had somehow learned a relatively passable amount of knowledge of court decorum during her time at the Monastery. It was probably not the most respectable look to be caught asleep in a random room, canoodling witha former professor.

She reminded herself of this twice before her brain finally pushed her enough to gently extract herself from the (now that she noticed) not entirely comfortable position she’d fallen asleep in. That could not have been good for Dimitri’s neck either.

Byleth got almost completely untangled, when Dimitri’s strong arms sleepily, but firmly pulled back back in. The man attached to them made a soft mumbling noise that made her smile.

 _Decorum_ , intoned the very annoying voice reminding her of responsibilities that always managed to sound a bit like Seteth.

“Dimitri,” Byleth said, tapping her fingers against his sides and jostling him slightly. He made that soft noise again and her willpower crumbled a bit, until she could feel the pins and stings of her foot that had also fallen asleep at some point. “Dimitri,” Byleth said again, and this time pushed his arms off so she could flee into the far _too_ _fucking_ _cold_ air. “Fuck,” Byleth said out loud, as she rubbed her arms trying to put warmth back in them. Maybe she could just steal Dimitri’s cloak and run off with it.

That wouldn’t really be decorum either, she supposed.

Dimitri stirred, eye opening slowly, blinking away at the morning and then staring at her in confusion, before whatever he made of the night previous settled back into his memory.

She had truly missed his face being this easy to read.

“It’s morning,” she said.

Dimitri’s voice was a rumbling low pitch, still husked with sleep. “You’re still cold.”

“The fire’s out,” Byleth said, as if that was the explanation. She really hadn’t packed well, only battle gear, although in her defense at the time, she wasn’t really sure they were going to need anything else. Marching straight into Enbarr didn’t seem entirely survivable even when everyone committed to it. (It was hard not to, when even her objection was formally turned down by three Knights, two Lords, and the Archbishop’s second-in-command.) She was grateful for many reasons that they had changed course.

“It’s morning,” Dimitri said, as if he was also discovering this fact.

They used to have long conversations, interesting conversations, and now it was about the weather and what time of the day. Byleth wanted to laugh, but she was afraid her lips would freeze in that position. Before she could think of anything else to say, Dimitri’s cloak fell around her shoulders, this time without him in it.

She felt instantly warmer for a variety of reasons and stared up at him rubbing the side of his neck in a slightly pained fashion. When he met her gaze, he smiled a little, and offered her his hand.

Byleth took it, not only because she liked his hand with hers, but because her entire right leg had gone numb and it was difficult to balance and lift herself up at the same time. He was still holding her hand when a servant came, harried, and then relieved and informed Dimitri of his breakfast guests. Byleth recognized a few names, but had not met the lords personally.

“Apologize for my lateness,” he said to the servant. “I will join them as soon as…” he raked a hand through the mess that was his hair and Byleth pinched her arm so she wouldn’t laugh, “I clean up.”

The servant, whose name Byleth would’ve known if it was Garreg Mach, a familiar and not freezing place, nodded, bowed, and went off.

Dimitri let out a very long sigh.

“That excited for breakfast?” Byleth asked and then regretted it, because it reminded her it was morning and she was hungry.

Dimitri looked back at her and smiled weakly. “It’s not that it’s…” He sighed again and smoothed down the cloak around her shoulders. “I should walk you back to your room.”

“I can walk myself,” Byleth said. She couldn’t tell what the twitch of his mouth in response was to that, but as easy as his face to read was, this new… unnamed thing between them was indecipherable. “I don’t want to make you even later,” she added. And then thinking about the walk back to her room without it, also added, “I’m keeping the cloak.”

That released a soft chuckle from Dimitri. “I suppose that was the intent all along.”

Byleth didn’t fight the smile and enjoyed the way Dimitri’s face softened and warmed at her when she did it. “I am a master strategist, I’ve been told.”

Another soft chuckle, but then followed by an even softer sigh and Dimitri rubbing his face with his hand. “There are going to be rumors and gossip.”

“About your cloak?” Byleth asked and when he glanced back at her, she understood and also realized he thought she was joking. A common occurrence, Byleth always felt as if she’d skipped a beat that everyone else seemed to instantly attune to. “There’s always rumors and gossip about something.”

Her least (but also most) favorite was that she was the illegitimate child of Seteth and Rhea. Mercedes had taken the idea so seriously that just thinking of it made Byleth want to laugh, but Dimitri was very serious and she didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him.

“It’s not…” Dimitri started and then stopped. She had no idea what the end of that sentence was and wanted to follow its path back to his mouth and pry it out of him.

But… decorum.

“Would it be better or worse if you walked me to my room?” Byleth asked.

Dimitri seemed to think that over and then stared at her intently. “I would feel better if I walked you to your room.”

That wasn’t an answer, but it was good enough that Byleth walked to him and took his outstretched arm. “You just want your cloak back.”

“I was taught by a master strategist,” Dimitri said, very seriously.

Byleth couldn’t help the snort that erupted and threatened to turn into something obscene like a giggle. She needed to do something today that got her footing back. Maybe find Felix and beat him in the knights’ yard after she begged warmer clothes off him or spell practice with Annette. She could let Ashe shoot at her again…

It wouldn’t help with whatever this was. She sometimes thought she knew, but it was… unfamiliar and strange. She always felt things, but feeling things like this was more like an experience she watched someone else have. And as much as she had studied his face, she wasn’t entirely certain that they were on the same path to understanding whatever it was.

Her room wasn’t far, so the walk wasn’t very long. Dimitri stood awkwardly, he was more warmly dressed than she was, but clearly still in his rumpled clothes from the night before. She bravely took off and handed his cloak back to him, ignoring the urge to chatter her teeth. It was a little warmer in the hallway, now that the sun had started to cascade into the windows. She would survive.

He didn’t put the cloak on immediately, still standing there, awkwardly. Byleth knew he was late and truly did not want to be the reason still tender alliances under his reign went badly. “We could… have tea later,” she said. “I don’t know what your day is like, but if you can find time to escape the formalities.” She shrugged.

Dimitri’s gaze was soft and he nodded. “I’d like that. I…” He winced. “I’ll have to check, I don’t seem to know what my day is like either.”

Byleth bit her lip to keep from laughing at him, but she could tell he caught it, although he didn’t seem upset. If anything that thing between them seemed warmer, lighter, and like it was within her grasp. “Good,” she said. “I’ll see you whenever that happens.”

Dimitri looked like he might say something else, but she was already half in the door and so he nodded, politely and walked off, without putting his cloak back on his shoulders.

She fought the urge to continue watching him and shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood with a heavy sigh of her own.

She needed breakfast. And then something productive that also kept her warm.

* * *

_Dimitri_

Dimitri paid rapt attention during the informal and formal meetings he spent hours in, but the walk back to his rooms, he could not help but fade in and out of attention, only responding when he heard Dedue’s voice. He wanted to think the best of people, but he also wanted them all to speak as Dedue did, clear, to the point, with no false agenda behind each of their words.

“The merchants are delayed another week with supplies because of the weather,” Dedue said.

“Claude and the Alliance may not have a week,” Dimitri said, frowning. “Are there any other supply sources? Something we missed?”

Dedue shook his head. “Afraid not, your majesty. These were the closest we could find.”

“Then we send people for them, so they have to travel less,” Dimitri said, already trying to think who would be the most useful for that type of mission and who would argue the least, they rarely aligned. The chill was bitter and causing a brief respite from the skirmishes along the Adrestian border, but it was also delaying everything needed to move forward.

He’d send Ingrid. There was no snow and she was capable enough to not only deal with merchants, but any potential conflicts. And anyone else not from Faerghus might have difficulty. Likely not using a rug for warmth, but something. The thought made him smile and he realized Dedue was still waiting for his follow-up.

He directed the instructions for Ingrid, suggested Ashe and a few others as assistance, but left the final decision to her. “Oh,” Dimitri added once that was settled. “Do… I have any free time on my schedule?”

“Free time, your majesty?” Dedue said the words as if they were in another language.

“The Professor wanted to have tea, I said I’d let her know when there was an available opportunity.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Sylvain said, previously twenty steps behind them chatting up a chambermaid and then now, at the worst time, reappeared.

“Please,” Dimitri said, “Whatever it is… don’t.”

“So you didn’t spend the night in a torrid passionate love affair in the east wing, breaking furniture with the Professor?”

“I’ll deliver the message to Ingrid,” Dedue said, over Dimitri’s indignant sputtering.

“Oh I’m sure she’s heard it already,” Sylvain said, to Dedue’s quickly retreating back. Sylvain slapped Dimitri on the back and grinned. “Whole castle has heard it.”

“It isn’t … that’s not what happened,” Dimitri said. He shouldn’t have been caught off guard. He assumed something would be implied, but he’d underestimated how much it would evolve.

“Oh?” Sylvain was unrelenting, Dimitri suddenly missed the forced reverence he’d had to give all day. “So you’re willing to share the dirty details?”

“There are… none,” Dimitri said, lowering his tone as a pair of servants that appeared to be on their way to the kitchens walked past. “We simply fell asleep,” he attempted to find his footing again, now that Sylvain had caught him off guard and upended his balance. “I didn’t break any furniture,” he added.

“You sound defensive.” Sylvain was still grinning, he reached his arms up to place behind his head, in a favored posture that made him look like he was lounging and walking at the same time. “What were you doing before the sleep?”

“I’m not discussing this with you,” Dimitri said. “You shouldn’t be so crude, we’re not in school anymore.”

“I held back… so many other phrases,” Sylvain said, looking mildly offended, but it was a farce. “Also, who else are you planning on talking to?”

He had him there. Dimitri had no one else that he could discuss… this specific genre of topic with, even as much as it pained him. Sylvain could be teasing, but he was rarely judgmental.

Dimitri sighed. “Not… here,” he said and gestured forward. Sylvain followed, blissfully silent, although his smugness was audible. The western library was much smaller than the eastern, and he was finding that he preferred to use it for work, rather than his chambers. It was also practically sound proof with thick wood and books pressed against the stone walls and carpeting covering the floor in its entirety.

“Good call,” Sylvain said, closing the door behind them. “If you’d taken me to your chambers, there might have been two rumors rolling around.”

“Do you ever stop?” Dimitri asked, exasperated because he knew the answer.

Sylvain held up his hands, a sign of surrender, but was still grinning as he made his way to sit on the arm of one of the larger chairs. “I am your oldest, most attractive friend, shed your burdens onto me.”

Dimitri could not think of anything witty to say in reply, so he ignored it and paced towards the window and pulled down the curtain to cover the unfrosted and yet still iced glass.

“Shit,” Sylvain said. “Really?”

“There have been… overtures,” Dimitri said. “Enough to convince me that it might potentially…” He felt overheated and looked at the ceiling rather than Sylvain’s far too interested face. “We slept in front of the fire together. I can’t say it wasn’t intimate but it wasn’t,” he gestured vaguely into the air, careful not to accidentally break the curtain rod again. “Whatever other phrases you have.”

“So you slept with a girl, but didn’t sleep with a girl,” Sylvain said.

“Are you actively trying to torture me?” Dimitri asked turning towards him.

Sylvain laughed and shook his head. “No, no. I’m here, I’m helpful.” He placed his hand on his chest, in a sign of promise. “I’m just trying to figure it out. You, that’s easy. She’s…” He tapped his fingers against his chin. “I never get a good read on her. Not to mention… the incident.”

Dimitri remembered choking on the water he had just sipped, when being informed that the Professor had in so many words, very graphic and detailed words, ‘called him on his bluff’ and Sylvain had avoided them all for three days because of it. Reportedly, he’d run in the other direction after she had graphically acquiesced to one of his many joking advances.

“I don’t see what that has to do with this,” Dimitri said. It was an unwelcome memory. He felt younger and less in control of his limbs, just thinking on it.

“She’s clearly got experience, which makes sense, that wayward mercenary life probably doesn’t make for the stable relationships, I prefer to have for three or four days.”

Dimitri had a pain in his left temple. “What does _that_ have to do with this?”

“I’m calculating,” Sylvain said. “You two have been making eyes a lot recently and a chaste snuggle by the fire? Maybe you missed a signal.”

“A signal?”

“You know when a girl wants you to—”

“I know what you meant,” Dimitri said quickly, before Sylvain could continue. “I just don’t…” Had he been that dense? “I don’t want to assume things.”

“Which could be your problem,” Sylvain suggested, reasonably. “She’s pushing herself out there, making doe-eyes, being long legged and posing all sexy so you can see her curves better, and you’re … you know, you.”

The picture Sylvain described sounded ridiculous. However, she had asked to get into his cloak, but he hadn’t _actually_ thought she’d meant… “How do I not be me?”

Sylvain smiled and Dimitri immediately regretted asking the question.

“Oh my friend, I’m so glad you asked.”

* * *

_Byleth_

“I know how to fight in the snow.” Byleth didn’t mean to sound combative, but Felix brought it out in her and she had strapped weights to her arms unevenly and was working with her offhand for a challenge, it wasn’t leaving a lot of room for not sounding frustrated.

“I’ve fought in the snow, I know the techniques, how to dress for it, and how to adapt for the change in terrain.”

The sweat dripping from the effort of balancing an imbalanced weight ruined the effect of activity warming her up, and started to cool her down again. Byleth brought her training blade down in an arc of annoyance.

“I told you to pack better.” Felix was, as always, unsympathetic to her plight. He did lend her an overcoat and some thick undershirt and leg coverings she’d never seen the type of before, so she supposed she owed it to him to let him be a little irritating.

Byleth hefted her blade up into her grip, shifting it around until she found a good spot in the hilt to get proper grip.

“I packed for an excursion to Enbarr.”

“One we wouldn’t come back from,” Felix pointed out. He had gotten too good at reading her. Or maybe it was, because he was also the only one with enough courage to disagree with Dimitri when he was lost into the depths of grief and madness.

“So _you_ packed with optimism?”

“No, I packed to be prepared. I’m better at it than you.”

She grunted with the effort of balancing the training weights on her shoulders, but still levied the blade in his direction. He caught it easily enough with his own, smirking. “I’ve never been this far north,” she said, as she tried to catch her breath and charge again. “We mostly avoided Kingdom territories.” She hadn’t realized it then, but her father must have been keeping them away from the church.

What to make of that, was an entirely different topic, one she could examine after they saved Rhea and got her to answer some damn questions, since Seteth refused to budge and Flayn genuinely didn’t seem to know.

“Did you really think we’d die at Enbarr?” Felix asked. There was no particular bite to his tone, nothing about it that sounded like an accusation. He followed the question up with a sharp swipe of his own training blade, that managed to get her flank half a second before she was able to dodge it.

She needed to practice with weights more often. Byleth huffed and brought her blade down in retaliation, harder than she needed to, using the weights on her shoulders to bolster her momentum.

Felix was still able to catch it, but the slight quirk of his eyebrows meant he was at least a little impressed with the technique.

“I thought that the plan was stupid,” Byleth said. “And I think Edelgard is too smart for that kind of attack.”

Not to mention Dimitri had been fighting like a literal beast. He’d thrown himself directly into the mix of fighting and more than once she’d had to follow him to make sure he and their allies didn’t get overwhelmed.

More than once they had and Byleth turning back the clock, didn’t prevent Dimitri from doing it all over again.

“And yet, we were all going to do it anyway,” Felix said, now he sounded annoyed. There was something else there too, likely however he felt about the fact that he was included in the ‘we.’

It was dangerous, being willing to follow someone into the flames, no matter the cost. She felt constantly in that danger the moment she agreed to teach the Blue Lions.

Byleth ran at Felix again, this time pushing off with her dominant foot so she could use the imbalance to her benefit and push herself farther to his left. It also didn't work, but Byleth managed to get close to knocking his sword loose. Her arms strained with the effort to at least drive him back.She also failed at that, no matter how thick her arm muscles had gotten.

Byleth stepped back, yielded, and took the weights off her shoulders. She was warmed at least.

“What do you think,” she attempted to catch her breath, “about Derdriu?”

“Nothing I haven’t already said,” Felix answered, shortly. He frowned at the air, still no visible mist to it, but the cold seemed to hang there anyway. “If this doesn’t clear up, we’re going to have trouble.”

More like Claude would have trouble. Byleth tried not think about Gronder.

“It’s a good choice though, to support them.” Or at least try.

“ _Finally_ ,” Felix said, which meant he agreed with her and understood exactly what she meant.

For a brief, insane moment, Byleth considered asking Felix if he had ever been in love before. If he could put words to a feeling the way her father had in his diary about her mother.

Instead she leaned on her sword. “This didn’t warm me up, but now I am tired enough to die in the cold, comfortably.”

Felix rolled his eyes at her. “You’re dangerous until it’s a little chilly and then you’re weak.”

Byleth, as always, took the bait. This time, she didn’t have the weights on her shoulder, so she was able to provide Felix with an actual challenge. That was probably what he wanted in the first place.

By the time they were done, she could only feel the cold on the tips of her ears. Everything else was weighted with the comforting feel of a good strenuous endeavor. She liked swordplay and fighting. When nothing else in the world made sense, that did. She was also drenched in sweat and thankfully not wearing the clothes Felix had leant her yet. She thanked him again for them, but he shrugged her off, refusing to take any praise.

Byleth made her way to the baths. She’d been avoiding them, because as warm as they were able to get, she was cold seconds after she left them, but she was more sweat than person at this point.

The exertion and new clothes helped immensely and Byleth felt so much more like herself. The servant who passed her a hairbrush was flushed and refusing to make eye contact, even though Byleth was fully clothed. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but did her best job trying to untangle her hair and get it a modicum of dry at the same time.

“Thank you,” Byleth said, handing the brush back to her. The servant nodded, giggled, covered her mouth and then ran off again.

Byleth could not wait for this cold front to be gone so she could go back to things she knew.

Like combat.

* * *

_Dimitri_

It was abysmally late by the time Dimitri had the spare time to take up the invitation for tea. No matter what Sylvain said, he didn’t think it was appropriate to just _assume_ that anything was confirmed and he wasn’t going to abandon common courtesy on an educated guess.

Maybe it was for the best, Dimitri thought. At least it would give something else to crop up as a rumor, rather than fanning the flames. He wasn’t sure if something like this was better than focus on what lay ahead for most of the castle inhabitants, but he didn’t appreciate dragging her into the center of it.

He went to bed frustrated and alone, ignoring the image of Sylvain’s ‘I told you so’ face in his mind.

Dimitri shamefully, lost track of the invitation entirely, over the course of the next days influx of papers to go through and meetings to attend, so the next time he ran into Byleth was in the temporary war room, as they discussed how to best approach Garreg Mach should the weather take too long to lift.

He couldn’t help but think of her comment regarding them only discussing the weather.

“I’m sure it will clear up soon,” Annette said brightly.

Though Mercedes thought differently, “Annie, you sound disappointed.”

Annette blushed and shrugged her shoulders awkwardly. She still hadn’t quite yet grown into the confident sorceress she was and Dimitri sensed her trepidation at least as eyes drew towards her. “I mean…” Annette started and then waved her hands a little wildly, almost catching Felix in the nose with one if he hadn’t quickly dodged to his right.

“Teach me that move,” Sylvain said, barely audible to Felix who glowered in response.

“It’s just…” Annette started again and flailed a little more.

“It’s a nice break,” the Professor said, drawing attention towards her and away from Annette and visibly saving her from her torment of attempting to justify her feelings.

“Yes, that’s it!” Annette said. “Not that we should take a break, but we have to, so it’s just… nice.”

There were murmurs of agreement around what was left of the war council.

“Maybe we could take advantage of it and have a small gathering,” Mercedes suggested.

“With sweets and tea and music?” Annette added, blossoming at the idea.

“I’m out of here,” Felix announced, making his way around Annette as if he could avoid the very concept of socializing for fun.

“Felix,” Sylvain said, “C’mon, you could have a good time.We could throw food at you and let you cut it like you did for Flayn.”

“Shut up,” was Felix’s only response before he was completely out the door.

“I thought it was a great idea,” Sylvain said with an unperturbed shrug.

Dimitri realized that Annette and Mercedes had continued their planning, ignoring the interruption when he heard Mercedes say, “Oh, but maybe it’s not fair to do it without Ingrid and Ashe.”

“I could invite some girls,” Sylvain suggested. He shifted his posture as Mercedes blankly stared at him and then rubbed the back of his neck. “Or you know… everyone could bring people.”

“I doubt Felix will attend,” Dimitri said to Mercedes, “and I am doubtful I can find the time, as this is the first free moment I’ve had, so I do not think Ashe and Ingrid will hold it against you to go on without them.”

“You can’t find any time?” Mercedes frowned a little, but she nodded in understanding or to end the conversation quickly. “We’ll make sure you get some of whatever we bake.”

“You should ask Dedue to help,” Dimitri said, after nodding his appreciation of her thought. His friend was currently off on another errand for him and had not even been able to attend the council. It was only fair he get a break.

“Oh good idea,” Annette said, and then very quickly added, “your majesty.”

Dimitri sighed but didn’t correct her.

“You’re going to run yourself into the ground,” Sylvain said. “You can’t take a teeny tiny little break?”

To his credit, the implications Dimitri knew were there, did not appear in Sylvain’s face or in his tone. “Likely no.” He forced a smile. “But you all have fun without me.” Probably more fun, as no one would have a reminder of the past few months, or feel obligated to use titles. “It was a good idea. There’s still plenty of ingredients left over from the celebration feast that I am sure the cooks would appreciate being made of use of before they expire.”

“Very practical,” Mercedes said, completely sincere, offset by Sylvain’s disappointed expression.

“What’s left to do?” the Professor asked him. He somehow hadn’t noticed that she’d moved next to him.

“There is a list,” Dimitri said, attempting to sound apologetic.

“Can I help?” she offered. It was an offer she had made to everyone about anything, with no intent of repayment behind it. One of a million reasons, he and everyone else was besotted.

He realized he was staring and not answering and cleared his throat. “No, you should enjoy yourself as well.”

“It would be a shame if you worked yourself to death before we have a chance to go into battle,” she countered.

The planning had quieted down and Dimitri could feel Annette, Mercedes, and Sylvain’s eyes peering in their direction. The girls were too well mannered to mention rumors, but were still rather obvious, even if Byleth did not seem to notice.

“A few hours,” Sylvain said. “Those of us best kept out of the kitchen, because the staff banned us for incidents not even remotely our fault, can help you finish your list.”

Dimitri wondered why he was always discovering that he was able to feel grateful and irritated all at the same time. “I…” There were too many eyes in his direction, none of them guarded, and all of them on faces he owed unpayable debts to. “I suppose.”

“Yes!” Annette cheered and leapt immediately back into planning mode with Mercedes. Sylvain gave him a thumbs up, behind the Professor’s head and went to the girls to pepper unhelpful suggestions.

“No one is going to think you’re shirking duties,” Byleth said, still next to him.

“You sorely underestimate how quickly someone can develop a low opinion,” Dimitri said, before realizing it sounded too brusque. “You seem better dressed… for the climate.”

He had noticed her yesterday wearing an overcoat around the castle, but in the meeting, she had layered her clothes so she didn’t look ready to run outside at any given moment.

“Lucy,” Byleth said, naming one of the servants who was assigned to attend to the rooms in her wing, “helped me find some things that didn’t limit my movement or let me turn into an icicle.”

“Or belong on the floor,” Dimitri added, unable to help himself.

“Not when you’re being creative about solutions,” Byleth shot back, her lips twitching upwards.

He realized he was staring and not speaking again. And that attendants, as well as their friends, were peering in their direction. “I should get started on accomplishing my tasks, if I’m going to make it.”

Byleth nodded at him and smiled, friendly, warm and open. He turned to leave before he started staring again, exited by the sound of Annette and Mercedes warm voices being joined by her own.

* * *

_Byleth_

Annette was drunk. Byleth made this discovery when she asked if there were any Super-Spicy Fish Dango left and her former student burst into tears. “No, I didn’t make enough, I’m so sorry! I’m horrible at planning things.”

The reaction, though absurd, was familiar which Byleth appreciated. She sometimes felt like the five years she’d slept through had made her even more disconnected. She put one hand on each of Annette’s shoulders. “Were you drinking the punch?”

“No,” Annette hiccuped and then started crying all over again.

Byleth looked around for Gilbert, but he had left early, only making a symbolic appearance, and Mercedes seemed to be deep into conversation with Felix (who Sylvain had somehow bribed into coming) and Dedue. She tried making eye contact with Sylvain as a last resort and next familiar face, but he was very occupied with a busty attendant that was ending the party as a guest.

Why did Ingrid and Ashe have to be the ones gone? Byleth tried making a shushing noise, like one would do for a horse, which got Annette’s attention, but did not have the desired effect.

“I’m not a horse… am I acting like an animal? Oh no.”

“You had too much punch,” Byleth said, but she knew that Annette was in her headspace where she would not listen to reason and had to be bodily removed from the library and made to get some sleep. “You need to breathe.”

“I am breathing!” Annette protested and then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m making a mess of everything. We’re supposed to be happy right now and enjoying ourselves and not thinking about killing our friends.”

Unbidden, the face of a former student in a different house came to Byleth’s mind, it likely wasn’t the one Annette was thinking of, which made it all the worse that there were so many choices.

“I’m going to take you back to your room,” Byleth said and at Annette’s muted nod, she dropped one had and steered Annette towards the exit with the other.

It was mostly quiet, muffled drunken sobs, as Annette walked beside her. Byleth didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

As usual, Annette found something to fill the silence, it was one of the things Byleth liked best about her.

“I want this war to be over,” Annette said, “I hate that to make it happen we have to hurt more people that we cared about.”

“Me too,” Byleth said.

This time she thought about a face that hadn’t been a body. Edelgard. She tried not to think about it too much, but lost within the details was any true explanation beyond carving her into an aimless villain as to why she was involved with the people that killed Jeralt. And that _wasn’t_ a good enough reason to kill her, even if sometimes, the dark silent spot in Byleth’s heart thought it might be.

She’d thought that everyone else had five years to adjust and get used to the senseless violence of this war, which is why they handled it better, but Byleth was learning everyone was hiding it as much as she was.

If anything, her experience as a mercenary, with bodies and faces never familiar, should’ve made _her_ the best at handling it. Maybe that was what everyone assumed.

“Did I ruin the party?” Annette asked, a few feet from her door.

“No,” Byleth said, honestly. “It was really nice. And I loved the spicy chocolate cake.”

Annette’s entire face lit up and then she looked like she might cry again, so Byleth steered her towards her room and made sure that Annette had water and was in bed, before she left.

Byleth would make the fire she’d follow her students into if needed. That was a good reason.

Not much had changed in the small hall once Byleth made her way back. Sylvain noticed her return and made a gesture of throwing back drinks and a questioning face. Byleth debated ignoring him, but nodded instead. She could hear his laugh from across the room.

Felix had left whatever conversation Mercedes and Dedue still seemed to be having and was presumably discussing weaponry with the armorer that had been one of many invites to what the small gathering had grown into. It wasn’t quite as packed as the celebratory feast, but Byleth was sure that no one but Sylvain and herself had noticed Annette’s state and exit.

Or she thought. “Is Annette all right?” Dimitri asked. He had excused himself from a conversation that did not look finished and made his way directly towards her.

“She might not be in the morning,” Byleth said. “But I think she’ll sleep it off.”

“Ah,” Dimitri said. “That is why I avoided the punch. Sylvain suggested it too many times for me to believe it wasn’t stronger than normal.”

“Hungover King doesn’t sound like the best image for tomorrow,” Byleth agreed.

There was a long silence after that, cadenced by the sounds of people eating and talking, and the strum of a lyre in the far corner. Dimitri wasn’t as skilled as Annette at filling the silences.

“Would you… like to take a walk?” he asked her after a long three minutes.

“Sure,” Byleth immediately replied. She was worried she’d sounded too eager by the face he made, but Dimitri just offered her his arm and they left the small hall’s cheerful noises behind them to the silence of the castle hallway.

“I feel like we would have ended up here,” Dimitri said, as they walked the chilly hall. “We seem to escape these things near the same time.”

“The last time I was looking for you to bring you back in,” she countered. She had been watching him since then, waiting for signs that the self-flagellation would come back, followed by what he’d been before. So far, it had just been Dimitri.

“I should be more adapted to it than you by now,” Dimitri said, more to himself than her.

She leaned against his arm. “When we rescue Claude we can ask him to give you lessons.”

That made Dimitri laugh, which was a wonderful noise, amplified by the silence around them.“I’m not sure making that an addendum to our request for soldiers in return will go over so smoothly.”

“I think it would go over _more_ smoothly,” Byleth countered.When she glanced up, Dimitri was staring at her with visible fondness. Someone had tied his hair back so it wasn’t covering half his face, she reached up to touch the ends that were still hanging near his shoulders.

Byleth wasn’t sure if it happened slowly or if some effect of the powers Sothis had given her made time slow down as Dimitri leaned forward towards her, gently cupped her face with his hand and kissed her.

She felt lighter, like shivering without the chill. In response, Byleth moved her hands to his neck and pulled him into a deeper kiss. She wasn’t exactly sure how long they spent in that spot, smashed together as tightly as possible and making very short breaks to breathe, but at some point one of them remembered where they were.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” Dimitri said, his lips were unbearably red and wet and his hands were still spanning the entirety of her hips.

“My room’s closer,” she said. It was an entirely practical suggestion. She realized the full implication of the statement as Dimitri ran his tongue over his lips and seemed pained when he leaned back from her.

He nodded and they walked rather quickly towards where her rooms were without passing anyone. She’d kept it locked out of habit when her sword was in it and it took her more than a moment to fumble with her key to open it. Dimitri was behind her, hands making slow, even circles on the sides of her ribcage, barely hard enough to feel under two layers of fabric and yet.

It took the span of two seconds after the door was closed before they were kissing again. Byleth hadn’t thought she’d like it _this_ much, but she kept pulling Dimitri in harder, teeth scraping his lip so he’d give her more.

The noise she got in response was guttural and sent sparks up and down her spine. His touch turned from gentle to demanding, as he cupped the sides of her breasts and squeezed before working his way through the clasp on her shirt. Dimitri tugged a little too hard and it and a few buttons came flying off.

Byleth laughed against his mouth, but Dimitri had stopped cold. He took a step back from her, hair mussed, eyepatch slightly askew, lips somehow redder than before and expression… panicked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away from her. “I … maybe we shouldn’t…”

His words came out in harried breaths, that seemed more than from kissing. “It’s just a shirt,” she said, carefully. “I can mend it.”

“I … it’s not only your shirt,” Dimitri said miserably. “I did not mean to be… so exuberant.”

Byleth did not remember complaining and was about to say so, when she realized what he was actually saying.

She took a gentle step towards him, almost like trying not to spook a colt, and put her hand on his cheek, turning his head to face her.

“Dimitri,” she said, as she physically felt the hesitation that was running through his body. “You won’t—” She stopped and corrected herself, and placed her other hand on the side of his face. “You _can’t_ break me.”

Their eyes locked, Byleth saw the moment Dimitri’s pupil looked blown out and she had only a moment to think about how much darker it looked like that, before his hands were on her hips, lifting her into the air to kiss her, even harder than she could coax him to do before.

Byleth placed her hands on his shoulders, so that she could have some leverage, though she didn’t need much, as Dimitri really had picked her up like it was nothing. Her mouth felt bruised, in the way that her muscles did after she worked them hard. It was a new and very welcome feeling that elicited noises she had never made before. On one that she really did not want to define as a whimper, Dimitri did rip off the rest of her shirt. The buttons flew across the room in every direction and Byleth laughed.

Dimitri, as if in response, kissed up the column of her throat, like he could catch the laugh direct from the source. She twisted her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Dimitri made that guttural noise again, his hands on her hips slipped to cup her ass and pull her lower half closer. He wasn’t wearing armor, so she could feel him hard against her and instinctively rolled her hips, fabric to fabric, drawing out yet another noise.

Byleth had little choice in making their way to her bed, but she also had no objections, until Dimitri dropped her on the bed and she wasn’t still touching him. She could feel her chest move up and down and see him watching it as he took off his own shirt, underlayer and all in one move.

She barely was able to make out any details on the broad span of his bare chest, so Byleth fought very hard for concentration and used a minor fire spell to light the bedside lamp. It was amazing she had not set the bedspread on fire, considering how wired she felt (not to mention control of dark magic was not her expertise).

Dimitri must have had the same thought, because he glanced at the flame, going a bit higher than it should have, pausing the moment as if he also expected something to go aflame.

Byleth cleared her throat and gestured to herself, drawing his attention back to her with a laugh that quickly turned into that guttural noise again as she finished undressing her top half. Dimitri moved on her, almost immediately. “You are… so beautiful,” Dimitri said, mostly into her collarbone.

She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his lips moving downwards… and teeth. She clung to Dimitri’s hair feeling a warmth travel from her stomach into her entire body as he cupped, touched, and bit at her breasts.

Byleth had barely noticed that Dimitri and her own hands had started undoing laces and shoving her pants down, followed by another two layers. Dimitri moved down from her chest and slipped her boots off, one by one, as he pulled the rest of her clothes off her.

The chill was not as sharp in the confines of her room, but she still pulled Dimitri back up and on top of her to counter it and steal some of his warmth. The fabric of his pants, scratched against her legs and she moved her hands down in an attempt to take them off him. She only succeeded in brushing against the bulge digging into her leg and did it again intentionally, after she saw how Dimitri reacted.

His hair was completely undone, tie lost somewhere with her buttons, giving him a wild look that was attractive and not crazed. Dimitri pushed himself up so that his arms were beside her and his weight only hovering half an inch above her. She curled her toes around the fabric of his pants and used them to assist tugging them off faster with her hands. She was glad he must have kicked his own boots off, because it was difficult to look at anything except the intent look on Dimitri’s face and she didn’t know how she would have managed it.

She’d seen that intensity on the battlefield, before and after Grounder, she’d seen it when he studied a topic he felt truly important, and she’d seen it when Dimitri was faced with a challenge that if he did not take responsibility for, would never be overcome. To see that intensity completely directed at her was overwhelming and set her nerves firing erratically down her body.

“Dimitri?” she breathed.

He responded by lowering himself down to her mouth, followed by the rest of him, so his full weight was crushing against her. She shifted a little underneath him, wriggling to get comfortable. Dimitri responded to each movement to help her adjust, but the wriggling motion itself only made him groan.

She cascaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him back into a kiss each time he took a break for air. She felt him unconstrained by fabric, pushed against her thigh and moved a little more and each time it made Dimitri groan. The groan turned into a rumble in the back of his throat and his hand slid abruptly down the length of her body to her lower half, moving in between both their legs and moving his thumb around her until she breathed out a gasp, nodded, and then instinctively ground down onto his hand.

Dimitri’s hips jerked in response, so she kept going, tightly clinging to his hair and his shoulder, until she moved one hand down to join his and lead it to the right spot again. Byleth only had a moment to think about how uncharacteristically loud she sounded, before she pushed her face into Dimitri’s shoulder, muffling the even louder moan that escaped her.

Dimitri, encouraged by the noise, kept going until she made another one. And another one and and another one and a louder one, and then finally her body tensed and the moans transformed into a whimper. She was too boneless to be mortified and the look of affection and not an insignificant amount of pride on Dimitri’s face made her huff out a breath and slap him on the back.

It got the point across and he had the nerve to chuckle, before settling between her thighs, moving them farther apart. She wanted to repay the favor and reached her hand down between them, but Dimitri closed his eye and cleared his throat slightly. “I’m not going to last if you do that.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Byleth asked, still boneless.

Dimitri seemed to weigh that for a moment, but Byleth had already released her hand and shifted her legs further apart of some volition beyond even her tactical brain. It was absolutely worth it for the full body shudder Dimitri released before she felt the tip of him push into her.

It wasn’t painful, but it was full and… uncomfortable, more so the deeper he went.

He stopped halfway, lifting his weight off her with his hands at her sides. His eye was, if possible darker than before. “Are you all right?” he asked, huskily, but not without concern.

Byleth shifted underneath him and attempted to get a better angle to see if that would help. Dimitri made a choked noise in response and pulled completely out. She saw the beads of sweat, making their way down his neck and back as he turned slightly away. She could feel him about to retreat and decisively counter attacked and shoved him onto his back.

Dimitri looked surprised and then he looked something else when she straddled him. “This is better,” she said as she controlled the fullness, angle, and speed, of taking him in.

Dimitri closed his eye, nodded, and faintly huffed out a breath. Byleth focused on riding him comfortably and on an increasing tempo that made him grip her hips for purchase. His fingers were digging in hard, then releasing as he realized, and then gripping again, until she finally leaned down, breasts hanging low enough to brush against his wiry, scarred chest. “I said, I won’t break,” she reminded him.

Dimitri let out a single, shuddered breath and then finally seemed to release his focus and move it towards the the undulation of their hips pushing together and moving apart as she road on top of him. The muscles of her thighs were burning from an earlier training session and the strength to keep her upright as she rode up and down, filling herself with him again.

Dimitri tightened his grip on her hips, grunting with every motion. She looked at him and felt herself ready to topple off the edge of it all. She honestly wasn’t sure if she finished again before he did, but she felt the buzz of arousal turning her boneless as Dimitri released a guttural noise that might have been her name and completely relaxed beneath her.

Byleth did not want to move, but her body decided for her and she slid off Dimitri and sprawled against his side. She felt like one of the monastery cats stretching out into the sun.

“Mm,” was all Dimitri managed, opening his eye to stare at her. He smiled when he saw her do the same.

“You’re very good at that,” Byleth said, after a comfortable silence where they caught their breath. It was sticky and sweaty and she was starting to come down from the high of it all and feel the cold again.

“I cannot say the same as that is… completely lacking as a way to describe yourself,” Dimitri said, taking her lead on moving to get underneath the actual covers. She would regret not getting dressed, but she couldn’t be bothered and feeling her skin against Dimitri’s was warm enough.

“Master tactician,” Byleth reminded him, brushing her fingers up his chest.

Dimitri’s smile widened. “Had you planned this out?”

“You have to improvise,” Byleth answered. Not that she hadn’t thought about it before. “I may have pre-planned a few attacks.”

Dimitri pulled her closer to him. “I yield.”

“I’d say it was a draw,” Byleth said, pressing her nose into the space where his neck met his shoulder and smelling the scent of everything mingled together, but mostly him.

They were quiet again, comfortable and silent, with only the sounds of their breath and Dimitri’s heartbeat to fill the small area they’d claimed.

“If I wasn’t completely dense, could we have been doing this earlier?” Dimitri asked, suddenly. He sounded much more awake than she felt.

“I don’t know,” Byleth said, closing her eyes. She yawned. “Maybe. It’s not like I have a frame of reference.”

Dimitri was quiet again, she thought maybe he was falling asleep too, until he said. “For… this?”

“Mmm,” Byleth replied, sleepily. It wasn’t exactly the kind of tiredness that took her when she pushed herself too far, but it felt as beckoning. She was warm, sated, and comfortable.

“With… anyone?” Dimitri asked.

If Byleth had been fully alert, she would have noticed that Dimitri no longer felt relaxed. “Mhmm.”

“I thought…” Dimitri said.

“It never came up before,” Byleth yawned again and tugged his arm back over her from where it had slipped down, “that’s not an innuendo.”

“You were…very descriptive before…” Dimitri sounded stilted, enough that Byleth opened her eyes again to stare at him. He looked worried again.

“I grew up with half-drunken mercenaries, you pick up stuff.” Byleth patted his cheek. “Stop worrying. You can be stressed and overworked in the morning.”

She was too tired to wait for a response and fell asleep soon after she closed her eyes again.

Dimitri wasn’t there in the morning. It took Byleth a few moments to convince herself it hadn’t been a very descriptive dream, mostly because she was naked and reminded that it was cold the moment she sat up. “Fuck,” she said, wrapping the blankets around herself. There was a note on the table, she assumed and was confirmed when she finally got cleaned up and dressed, that it was Dimitri telling her that he’d had to go back to the endless list of things that required attention.

She sighed and resisted the urge to crawl back into bed and wallow in the memory of the night before. She had her own list of things to do.

* * *

_Dimitri_

Dimitri was miserable. He tried to avoid thoughts of impaling himself with a sword and spent most of the day badly performing duties that he needed to excel at. Both Dedue and Annette asked him if he was feeling well, the latter not seeming to be suffering any undue effects from the punch the night before. Dimitri told them he was fine and then cornered Sylvain and dragged him back into the library.

“You know, I do like it rough sometimes, your majesty, but I’ve seen you break scissors with one hand and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

Dimitri resisted the urge to strangle him, mostly because he wanted to strangle himself. “This is your fault,” he said.

Sylvain blinked at him in confusion. “A common accusation, but I am missing the details on this one.”

Dimitri rubbed his hands over his face so hard he almost removed his eyepatch.

“Oh was she _not_ putting out signals?” Sylvain asked, he had the nerve to sound genuinely remorseful. “I told you she’s hard to read, but it can’t have been that bad?”

Dimitri had no idea how to actually say it out loud, but he had to or it was going to spill out during a strategy meeting. “She is… she was not experienced.”

Sylvain blinked at him again, then looked Dimitri up and down and frowned. “And?”

The visual accusation, paired with Sylvain’s scissors comment, made Dimitri want to throw himself into the fireplace. “I didn’t know that until after… I would’ve… it would’ve been completely different. I’ve made a mess of it.”

Worse a mess of it that could actively effect the battlefield. Dimitri was literally and metaphorically going to ruin his kingdom with his lance.

“I’m not following you, Dimitri,” Sylvain said, more seriously.

Dimitri sighed and recounted as many details as he was wiling (and felt comfortable enough) to share.

“Let me get this straight,” Sylvain said, gesturing towards Dimitri with his hand. “You… _finally_ seal the deal with the Professor, and then you find out she was pristine, so your solution is to leave her in bed and avoid her?” He let out a low whistle. “That is bad, even for me.”

“I…” Dimitri wondered when he would ever stop discovering new ways to ruin things.

Sylvain leaned back against the bookshelf and propped his leg up on a lower shelf. “She _really_ had me going there with that mercenary talk. Tricky woman that one. To think, if I’d been braver, I could have been the one who deflowered the Professor.”

Dimitri glared at him and felt the jerk as his body resisted the urge to wring his friend’s neck. He now, deeply understood Felix. “Don’t _say that_.”

Sylvain, nonplussed, laughed. “It’s not like you were that much of a ladies man yourself. I am betting I can count on part of one hand the tales of the Prince, now King of Fhirdiad’s conquests.”

Sylvain was right and Dimitri didn’t care, neither experience had been even remotely close to what last night and been and he had honestly been pressured into one of them. “I still should’ve handled things differently. Just because we’re at war doesn’t mean we stop all morals and romance.”

“Sounded like you got plenty of romance last night.”

“Sylvain,” Dimitri said, pained enough that Sylvain lifted his hands, the universal Sylvain sign that he would ease his tormenting.

“She’s practical,” Sylvain said. “She knows you’re busy and probably didn’t even notice the stench of fear as you abandoned her in the morning.”

“That isn’t helping.”

“It’s not supposed to,” Sylvain said, ruthless and not teasing. “We’re at war, Dimitri. We are. So if you or the Professor, or you and the Professor, can have one night, two nights, however many you can steal, while we’re still here. Then enjoy it. The shame and propriety will be waiting for all of us after the empire falls, believe me.”

The ‘or they would have failed and be dead’ was left unsaid, but immediately sobered Dimitri. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I would _never_ ,” Sylvain said and then put his hand to his chest, and added more seriously. “I mean it.” He pushed himself off the bookcase and moved towards Dimitri to pat his arm. “I don’t think anyone will care, but I can see being a little subtle while we’re still in the kingdom. Lords and Ladies everywhere are mentally marrying you off to their daughters as we speak, wouldn’t want to lose that leverage.”

“You are very shrewd at this when you want to be,” Dimitri said.

“Please don’t insult me when I’m helping you,” Sylvain said. He shook his head and opened the door, but stopped before exiting and glanced back at Dimitri. “Also we got a message after lunch, mission went great, Ingrid and Ashe should be back in the next couple of days with the supplies.”

That meant two more days until they marched forth, whether or not the cold ended, they would be at Derdriu by the end of the Garland Moon.

“Thank you, Sylvain.”

“Don’t mention it, your majesty.”

Dimitri had to ask around, but he eventually found Byleth in the infirmary going over supplies. He made to clear his throat, but she had already turned towards him. “Did they get Ingrid’s report to you yet?” she asked.

Dimitri nodded. “The summary, at least.” He walked over so he was next to her and studied the piles she had gathered for a moment before attempting to help. It was the same system they had used as students to keep track of the medical supplies.

Byleth tilted her head at him. “I thought you were busy.”

“I am,” Dimitri said. “But I always am.”

“Is everything okay?” Byleth asked, lowering her voice. “With last night.”

He looked at her, light green hair pulled back, dust from reaching to unused shelves stuck to her ear, and stunningly beautiful in every moment. He wasn’t sure if an apology would make it worse, or if several apologies would make it worse so he bit down the urge. They had now. There was no way to know if they’d have then. “You continue to undersell yourself with descriptors. _Okay_ is an insult to last night.”

Byleth blushed and looked away from him in an expression he would never have expected to see from a woman who could take down a feral wolf one handed in the middle of a battlefield.

“I was just checking,” she said.

He minded Sylvain’s advice about while they were still in the kingdom and resisted the urge to draw her into his arms, instead settling for touching her fingers with his own over a bandage. There are many things Dimitri wanted to say, but they were all things that had to wait. “Has my invitation for tea been revoked?”

Byleth smiled up at him. “It continues to wait for you.”

He would have to get Dedue involved if they actually wanted to get away with any sense of subtlety, Dimitri thought.

“I have an excellent tea set in my chambers, if you don’t mind it being late.”

Byleth tapped her fingers to her chin, as if she were thinking it over. “Do you have a fireplace?”

“I have two.”

“That’s why you’re not cold,” Byleth said, visibly irritated.

He did not let himself imagine for a moment if she’d be like this later, attempting to get used to the real chill in the winter, but the image felt more tangible than before and was harder to resist. He smiled as he gave in and that seemed to annoy her more. “You can have my cloak on the road,” he offered.

Byleth narrowed her eyes and then went back to sorting bandages. “I will hold you to that.”

Dimitri was going to fail miserably at keeping this private, he realized as he leaned down to kiss her temple and then her cheek, feeling it bloom outwards as she smiled. He left, with a new motivation to efficiently finish his duties for the day, and was thankful for the now and hopeful for the then.


End file.
